The Battle over Hetch Hetchy: America's Most Controversial Dam and the Birth of Modern Environmentalism

by Robert W. Righter

  More recently, ecologist Frederick Turner has spoken to the general idea of restoration. He identifies the ecology movement in terms of (i) conservation, (2) preservation, (3) restoration, and (4) invention. In Turner's view restoration "seeks to reconstruct classical ecosystems, and is based on an assumption that to do so is not only possible, given nature's own easygoing and flexible standards, but also an important part of the human role within nature." To interact with nature and, if necessary, to assist in restoration defines our own humanness. Turner continues: "For the restorationist, nature is of intrinsic worth as well as valuable for human use."34

  Ecologist Turner's fourth point, "inventionism," also has meaning for the submerged valley. Theoretically, he is convinced that ecologists cannot only conserve, preserve, and restore natural landscapes, but "when the occasion warrants and the knowledge is sufficient, . . . create new ecosystems, new landscapes, perhaps even new species." Human beings can be the "creator of natural diversity." The inventionist can "propagate life into presently dead regions of the universe, and even assist in the development of entirely new species."35 Nature is constantly evolving, reinventing itself, and there is no reason for humankind to be excluded from the process. Rather clearly, Turner is thinking about the universe, but also earth.

  Can the ideas of restoration work in Hetch Hetchy? Could the efforts of humans restore the "damaged fabric" of the valley? Could restoration aid humans just as much as nature? Would there be a role for the "inventionist" in the Hetch Hetchy Valley restoration? Many will argue no: Stay with the species of trees, shrubs, grasses, ferns, and riparian vegetation that existed in 1915. However, all of these questions would engender not only vigorous debate but also excitement, as botanists and plant biologists constructed a biologically harmonious ecosystem, working with nature but also shaping it. If we can accept the inventionist idea, the restoration of Hetch Hetchy could become a pathway to new knowledge, resulting in excitement between specialists, but within the general public as well. In an optimistic scenario, nature and ecologists would pool knowledge and creativity to form a sustainable relationship, creating a new and stunning landscape.

  Lost in the historical debate, and usually in the contemporary one, has been the intrinsic value of nature, and particularly humans' ethical responsibility toward Hetch Hereby Valley. John Muir understood it well, and yet he knew that Americans in his time were not prepared for what they considered foolish statements regarding the "rights of nature." If the valley was to be preserved, it would have to be based on human enjoyment. Today Americans are more comfortable with the idea of an expanded land ethic. But the question is: Are a sufficient number of Americans willing to grant Hetch Hetchy new life based on an enlarged ethical responsibility? And if so, at what price? For those who believe in restoration, it does not matter. The monetary price tag is only one consideration.You cannot put a price tag-as Mayor Dianne Feinstein did-on all aspects of restoration. One earnest advocate, viewing the vast reservoir, observed that the valley had been "holding its breath."36 Ken Brower, following in his father's footsteps, mused that "waiting inYosemite National Park, under water, is a potential masterpiece of restoration, the recovery project to end all recovery projects; an enterprise which, if realized, would become a paradigm for all planetary restoration to come."37 It was time to allow the valley to inhale deeply and come back to life. And, of course, for some devotees it is an ethical obligation to make this happen.

  FOR THE MAJORITY of Americans restoration of a valley and removal of a solid dam are ideas difficult to comprehend. Historically, we have built dams, not torn them down. Engineering journals have featured construction, not deconstruction.To do otherwise would be like a medical journal accentuating death rather than life. And yet many dams are reaching an advanced stage of life, for while they are neither sentient nor living, they do deteriorate. According to International Rivers Network, "by 2020 85% of all government owned US dams will be at least 50 years old, the typical design life span." Thus dams throughout the nation are-like the population-maturing. Some are losing their efficiency, costing too much in maintenance while holding back more silt than water. Many dams are in decline, and again, like medical doctors treating patients, hydraulic engineers spend their time checking on the condition of these structures to assure the public that their old age will not threaten downstream populations.

  With the decline in the United States of dam building, the status of the civil engineer has lost some of its glamour. Most are maintaining rather than erecting new structures. They are more custodians than creators.We see few engineers with the visibility and heroic demeanor of George W Goethals (Panama Canal), O'Shaughnessy, Mulholland, Holland, or Frank Crow (Hoover Dam).These men's structural works ushered in a modern world of abundance. Certainly they transformed the American West, but the status of their profession has changed. Just when that happened is difficult to say. For Mulholland, personally, it happened in 1928 when, on March 12 at 11:57 i~M., his St. Francis dam shuddered, cracked, and broke apart, sending a towering wall of water, mud, trees, and debris down a narrow canyon, eventually killing over 450 people.

  The more general demise of dam building, however, came later than 1928. By the i96os most of the natural sites, such as Hetch HetchyValley, had been plugged. Government agencies began to look at cost-benefit analysis, asking questions about gains and losses in transforming a river and a valley. Of course such analysis was nothing new The fight for Hetch Hetchy featured just about every conceivable pro and con of dam building. However, the public's attitude had changed as values shifted. Losses were magnified, and as John McPhee wrote in 1971, "there is something special about dams-as conservation problems go-that is disproportionately and metaphysically sinister." "Humiliating nature, a dam is evil-placid and solid.."3S Describing a dam in such anthropomorphic terms as evil and sinister seemed strange indeed, as did the concept of "humiliating nature." And yet, by 1971, with the environmental movement in full throttle, it seemed quite natural. After all, environmental groups had combined to defeat Bureau of Reclamation plans for a dam at Echo Park, within Dinosaur National Monument. And while the bureau was able to push through the Glen Canyon Dam, the last of the great dams in the West, in the mid-196os it faced a bitter defeat in its attempts to build Marble Canyon and Bridge Canyon dams in the Grand Canyon. By 1987 the Bureau of Reclamation had revised its mission. No longer would it focus on construction of dams, but rather on water distribution efficiency and water quality. In essence, engineers would earn their living by manipulating the existing system in a more efficient manner.

  While the pace of dam building has slowed to a feeble crawl, the idea of dam removal and land restoration has remained mainly a concept-not a reality. However, at least two examples are instructive. The breeching of the Edwards Dam on July i, 1999, was a significant event. For the first time since 1837 the waters of the Kennebec River in Maine ran free. The decommissioning and destruction of the two-story, goo-foot-long dam represented the culmination of a long process. In 1986 the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission (FERC) refused to renew the Edward Manufacturing Company's so-year license to operate the dam, ordering the company to shut down its turbines, tear down the dam, and return the river to its free-flowing state. Thirteen years of negotiation followed. When the breeching finally occurred, it took on the character of a celebration and a party. The curious early birds arrived at 6:00 A.M., the first of more than a thousand spectators. Helicopters circled and newspaper photographers aimed their long-lensed cameras at a 6o-foot gap in the dam, where once workers removed the cofferdam barrier, the river would flow free. Speeches were made and a generally festive atmosphere prevailed. One group seemed more reserved. In a single row sat Rebecca Wodder and Margaret Bowman, representing American Rivers; Amos Eno of the National Fish and Wildlife Foundation; Todd Ambs of the River Alliance of Wisconsin; Mike Lopushinsky of New York Rivers United; and Pam Hyde from the Glen Canyon Institute. "They sat on folding chairs," observed John McPhee, "as if on a ship
's deck for a formal surrender. For the victors, this was Yorktown, Cornwallis sulking in his tent "39 At the proper moment, they felt satisfaction as the bulldozers removed the cofferdam and the river ran free. Obviously, the triumph was a joint effort of many persons and many environmental groups. It was the first major dam in the nation to be ordered out of existence. Today, both the salmon and the natural environment have returned to the Kennebec River. It does not take long for nature to reclaim its lost habitat.

  In the Pacific Northwest a similar story is taking place on the Elwha, a major river on the Olympic Peninsula. During the same era when San Francisco acquired the Hetch Hetchy Valley, the Olympic Power Company, owned by entrepreneur Thomas Aldwell, constructed the Lower Elwha Dam, bringing much-needed power to the small town of Port Angeles. In 1916 Aldwell convinced the Zellerback family of San Francisco to purchase his company and also to build a paper plant at Port Angeles, ensuring jobs and a future for the struggling town. In the late 1920s the Crown Zellerback Corporation built the Glines Canyon Dam, a much larger dam further upriver. The two darns absolutely killed the vast salmon and steelhead runs on which many people depended, particularly the members of the Klallam Indian tribe. Yet the political power of Crown Zellerback and the jobs the plant created overwhelmed any protests. In the mid-1970s Crown Zellerback, like the Edwards Company, had to appear before the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission for renewal of its So-year license. In an earlier era such an application would have been approved automatically. But times were changing. Complicating the situation was the fact that, like Hetch Hetchy, both the Elwha and the Glines Canyon darns were within a national park. However, in this case the darns existed before Congress established Olympic National Park in 1938.

  Again, as with Edwards Dam, the commission had to weigh benefits and detriments. In FERC's deliberations the benefits seemed rather minuscule. The 20 megawatts of power that the two dams churned out appeared paltry, and the loss of that power could be made up primarily through conservation-in effect, more efficient consumption. There were few other arguments for the dams. More and more locals, and certainly the Klallam tribe, considered the return of salmon runs more important than electric power. FERC refused to extend the license. Again, years of litigation and negotiation ensued, but in 1992 the Elwha River Restoration Act passed Congress on the last day of the legislative session. A reluctant President George Bush signed the bill into law The act authorized the Department of the Interior to purchase the two darns for not more than $29.5 million, with the intent of removing them and returning the river to its normal flow40 It is one thing for Congress to authorize an expenditure, and another to fund it. In February of 2000 the government finally found the money to purchase the two darns. As of this writing the two Elwha River darns remain intact, but it is only a matter of time before millions of salmon once again churn up the unobstructed river.

  In both the Elwha River and Kennebec River cases one cannot ignore the crucial role of the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission. When Congress established it under the Federal Power Act of 1920, the commission was beholden to the power interests. As one might expect, it established hydropower as the "highest and best use of watersheds." But in both the Kennebec and Elwha River cases, an amended Federal Power Act instructed FERC to reestablish its priorities. The commission was to give "equal consideration" to wildlife, recreation, environmental quality, and related fac- tors.41 Weighing the values of power production and corporate profit with the Edwards Dam, the commission tipped over to the environmental side. A similar situation occurred with the Elwha River darns when the draft environmental impact statement, required by FERC, made salmon restoration its top priority. To renew its license, Crown Zellerback would have to restore the salmon to the river-something the company could not accomplish.42

  This discussion is not meant to suggest that the same principles apply to Hetch Hetchy. The Federal Energy Regulatory Commission has no jurisdiction over the O'Shaughnessy Dam, authorized seven years before the 1920 law was enacted. The key point is that major dams have, and will, be breached and the preponderance of public opinion was that their time had come. Like an old automobile, these dams were worn out and no longer fulfilled their purpose. Both the Matilija Dam in Southern California and the Elk Creek Dam (never completed) no longer serve any useful function.43 But like old cars, most of the thousands of "elderly" dams across the country will be repaired and reinforced, rather than removed. Yet the FERC actions mean that that no longer can dam owners continue with business as usual. Interior Secretary Bruce Babbitt, speaking at the Kennebec River in 1999, sounded a cautionary note: "This is not a call to remove all, most, or even many dams. But this is a challenge to dam owners and operators to defend themselves, to demonstrate by hard facts, not by sentiment or myth, that the continued operation of a dam is in the public interest, economically and environmentally."44

  Throughout the 199os, aside from the lone voice of David Brower, water and power flowed to San Francisco without criticism or distraction. As energy prices increased and water became increasingly valuable, the Hetch Hetchy system became the city's greatest asset, funding police protection, city park maintenance, and various social services. Hodel's wicked idea became only a distant memory. Yet in the San Francisco Sierra Club headquarters the fire had not totally gone out. Carl Pope, who had been a leader in the club's effort to support Hodel, asked a young staffer, Ron Good, to study a pile of documents on Hetch Hetchy. Nothing came of his work, but a seed had been planted. Good left the San Francisco office in 1989 for Ohio, but then returned to Southern California to teach school. He could not escape Hetch Hetchy, and he soon composed a 20-page treatise expressing his thoughts on the lost valley. He proposed the formation of a restore-Hetch Hetchy task force to be funded by the Sierra Club Foundation, the club's tax-deductible arm. He took a job in Yosemite Valley and in his spare time volunteered at the Sierra Club's handsome LeConte Lodge. One day Harry Wilkinson, a retired professor from Rice University, visited the lodge and in the course of his conversation with Good, Hetch Hetchy Valley became a subject. Soon Wilkinson wrote out a $i,ooo check to the Sierra Club Foundation.

  The money was a catalyst, for the task force members found that the Sierra Club directors and staff did not view Hetch Hetchy as a high priority. They were not hostile, but neither would they move the club toward a greater commitment. Given the situation, the task force-well aware that John Muir and those willing to fight for Hetch Hetchy Valley in 1909 had split off from the club to form the Society for the Preservation of National Parks-moved to end its direct affiliation with the Sierra Club. By October 2000 the directors of the newly named "Restore Hetch Hetchy" (RHH) task force filled out the paperwork and received the federal 5o1C3 nonprofit status. A tiny organization needs a benefactor, and RHH found it in the California Planning and Conservation League, particularly in Gerald Meral, who joined the RHH board. Meral was a veteran of California water and dam fights, including that over the New Melones Dam on the Stanislaus River. His support and those of other board members, such as Brower, meant the RHH was off to a good start. The following July, the board appointed Ron Good as executive director.45

  The specter of the tiny Restore Hetch Hetchy group (with about 1,500 members) taking on San Francisco and its Public Utilities Commission is more than a little reminiscent of Muir, Colby, McFarland, and Robert Underwood Johnson and their very unequal fight. Working with only a small budget and relying primarily on volunteer help, Restore Hetch Hetchy must fight a difficult battle. Like a tiny gnat, it can only irritate the giant.Yet like so many small, underfunded environmental groups of the past century, RHH depends on what it views as the rightness of its cause. In his last public appearance a wheelchair-bound David Brower spoke to the Yosemite Association Annual Meeting in September 2000 of his commitment to the restoration of the Hetch Hetchy Valley. With such recognized figures as Brower, RHH has won both publicity and converts.

  The group aims to win grassroots support as Good and others speak
to environmental and community groups across the country, asking that they pass resolutions supporting the concept of restoration. They take the view that a win-win solution is possible, with theYosemite National Park winning back one of its most scenic areas while the city will avoid forfeiting its water supply. Admittedly, under most scenarios the city will lose significant electrical generating capacity, a serious issue in a state that recently experienced an eye-opening electric energy crisis. But RHH is quick to point out that the loss will be well under i percent of California's production and can be recouped through wind and solar facilities and by energy conservation. In regard to cost RHH maintains that one cannot put a price on beauty and that some of the restoration costs must be borne by all of the American people. Aesthetic and ethical considerations must take precedence over those of money and engineering.

  What are the chances of restoration of the Hetch Hetchy ValleyAmerica's Lost Valley? Candidly, they are slim. San Francisco takes little notice, and with the passage of the $1.6 billion Hetch Hetchy Capital Improvement bonds in the fall of 2002, the San Francisco Public Utilities Commission is prepared to move ahead with a number of projects to upgrade the system. The 30 participating wholesale customers (Bay Area cities in Alameda, San Mateo and Santa Clara counties) will contribute $2 billion to this effort, thus creating an enormous purse of $3.6 billion. However, O'Shaughnessy Dam will receive very little attention, given that it is in excellent shape for a 70-year-old dam. Most of the money will be directed toward 77 projects involving aging aqueducts, tunnels, and replacement of old Spring Valley components still in use. The commission plans to spend much of its public funds to alleviate earthquake vulnerabilities as well as to increase the size of Calaveras Reservoir from 30,000 acre-feet of storage to over 400,000. All of this will cost the Hetch Hetchy water user plenty. Today the average water bill in San Francisco is $14 a month, but by 2015 it will increase to $41. A typical restaurant owner would see his or her bill increased from $314 to $889.46